The Warden
by Tuxedo-Kitten
Summary: The Warden, Louann Walker, now out of prison is pushed back into the world. But, trying to find the answers seems easier than it is... NOTE: This is a mix of book and movie
1. Free

The hot Texas air. It blew her red, fiery hair across her aged face. Her eyes searched the parking lot for anything to hold. The Warden had been it jail for, what seemed like, forever. As she walked out of the jail, free, she felt so alone in the whole world. All she had ever known was the old town of Green Lake, where her grand-daddy made her dig and dig. She didn't care for it now; all she wanted was her timeworn, light blue convertible Chrysler.

The Warden looked down at a plastic bag that held the contents of her life now. She reached in and pulled out her dusty sunglasses. She wiped the dust off with her checkered blouse and then tucked it back into her jeans. She placed her sunglasses on her nose; where they should be. She looked back down at the bag and read the letters written in permanent marker, Louann Walker. She hadn't been called that in a very long time. The boys had always called her "The Warden" and same with the staff, even thought there was only 3 including her.

Louann bit her bottom lip and stepped off the sidewalk. Just as her foot hit the pavement, a drunk and his noisy pick-up truck flew past, almost running her over. He immediately stopped and, with a sloppy laugh and deep belch, backed up. Louann meet face to face with the disgusting man.

"Hey, baby," the man asked, trying to be smooth, "You just get out? I bet you haven't had any fun in a while? How about I fix that."

"What an idiot," she thought to herself, "If only I had my rattlesnake nail polish."

Ms. Walker didn't say anything, but gave a suggestive smile. The drunk actually thought it had worked. He seemed overjoyed and from Louann's angle, she knew why. As he reached out for her hand, she grabbed his, but then took her other hand and slugged him right in the face. She pulled her hand back and saw she had gotten to him good. She couldn't be put back in jail again; she had to get out. Louann knew she had to wait for the bus to take her to her car, but she couldn't wait here.

The warden took her stuff under her arm and started to run towards the alley away from the jail. Her steel-toed cowboy boot clacked as they hit the pavement. When she reached the shaded alley, she quickly ducked behind an overflowing dumpster.


	2. There you are

Every so often, her face would peek out from around the dumpster, but still no bus. Louann wished the bus would come soon; the Texas sun was not making the trash smell any better. She rested her head up against the brick wall of the building. Her eyes looked to the blue, cloud-less sky, just like the day Stanley and Zero returned until the rain came. The rain lasted for days on end, but still didn't fix Green Lake to its original form.

A few minutes later, the bus arrived. Better, late then never, she guessed. She got up off the ground, wiped the dirt, and walked to the bus. As Louann stepped onboard, she looked for any other form of life, but no, no one else was on the bus. She picked the first cleanest seat she came upon in the middle of the transport. The dark-complexioned driver looked back at her and she tried to give a smile. He just shook his head and closed the door and drove off.

It was a bumpy ride, but comfortable. It was much better than anything in the jail. The jail had been hell. No one to talk to, no one who knows and loves you. She didn't know why she had finally decided to feel this way in the jail. She spent all her time on those stupid holes, she had no life. She never really had a boyfriend or anything like that. Just her beautiful cottage, next to two trees, in a dried up lake bed, in the middle of a boys juvenile camp.

She thought about everything on her drive to the car lot. She had thought many times in jail, so many she couldn't think anymore, but now that Louann was out, different things filled her head. Before she knew it, she had arrived at the car lot.

Louann walked of the bus onto the hot dirt ground. The sun, so bright and heavy, weighted her down as she went over to the little kiosk in the middle of the junk heap. A very hairy, sweaty man sat inside, half asleep. The Warden wasn't afraid of saying her mind or doing anything…well…she was, just a little. Her weathered hands hit the bell over and over, trying to wake the man in the most annoying way. It was a few seconds later when the man opened his eyes. He hadn't expecting anyone that afternoon, so when he met face to face with her, he jumped five feet out of his seat.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Madame," chuckled the gentleman, surprisingly jolly, "Um, name and car type please. And do you have the car with the number on it?"

"Louann Walker; Light Blue 1957 Chrysler," Louann replied.

She reached for her old leather wallet in her back pocket and took it out. In the wallet were her old license, hardly ever used credit card, a prayer card, and the ticket the jail had given her to get her car back. She pulled in out and laid it on the un-sanded counter. The man, named Darrel by the look of his name tag, picked up the card and brought it closed to his face.

"Oops, just one more thing," Darrel asked, "You ID please."

The Warden pulled out her wallet again and gave him her license. He looked back and forth from her face and the dirty license.

"Everyone seems to be in order, Ms. Walker," Darrel said to her, "Just wait one second."

He turned in his chair toward a rather large drawer with tons of key stuffed inside. Darrel scramble through the keys and finally found the gleaming metal.

"Follow me, please," he smiled.

Louann followed him through a maze of cars and some other junk. There were many clean cars surrounded by junkers and crushed metal.

"Honestly, we, here, were waiting to see who this nice old car belonged to," Darrel laughed, "We thought you were never coming!"

She ignored him, mostly. All she wanted to do was get out of this place. She wanted to go home and spend her life hidden from the whole. Well, she never really wanted that, but she figured that's what was going to happen.

They both stopped in front of a car, she guessed, that had covered so it was not to be damaged. Darrel reached down and pulled the cover right off in one swift move. It was her beautiful convertible. She ran her hand up the side of it, trying to remember the memories it held. Now she had gotten the car back she was getting out here, as fast as she could.


End file.
